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If I looked at him, I’d want him.
“I’m just going to charge it for you. I don’t have the code, so I can’t snoop,” he said. “You have to leave soon. A few minutes is better than nothing.”
I let out a slow breath, but handed it to him.
He was right.
And he must’ve noticed there wasn’t a charger in my duffel bag when he started unpacking it the night before. I’d forgotten to grab one in my hurry to get away from him.
He grabbed a bowl and a spoon, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from moving over his back.
He was too nice to look at.
And his hair was still tangled and messy from the night before, which satisfied some animalistic part of me.
I looked away when he started turning around, so he wouldn’t catch me staring at him, and took another bite.
He padded across the kitchen and sat down next to me, pouring his own bowl of cereal. We ate together in silence, until the clock told me it was finally time to make my escape.
I unplugged my phone and slipped out of the house.
Beck didn’t ask me to stop, or to drive with him. Something told me he’d assumed I’d say no.
Which I would’ve.
…Even though I’d want to say yes. I hated driving.
Beck caught up to me in his truck halfway through the drive. I couldn’t stop myself from staring at him in my rearview mirror every time I hit a red light. He was too pretty.
And everything was so uncertain.
So up in the air.
Plus, he had lied to me. Or at least concealed the truth. Despite his apology, that still pissed me off, even though my anger was fading to a sort of resigned sadness.
Like usual, he sat in the front part of the bakery while I got to work. Though I knew I would see him if I looked in that direction, I refused to do so. He didn’t need any encouragement after the way he’d kept the truth from me. I needed to put space between us.
Lots and lots of space.
Which was going to be pretty damn difficult if I really did get pregnant. Love had mentioned before that any kids the three of us had would be blood wolves like us. That meant my baby would be in even more danger than I was. On top of that, I’d never even imagined myself as a mom.
What if I was shitty at it?
What if I hated it?
What if I loved it?
My thoughts and emotions churned all morning, though I tried to chat with my coworkers like I usually did. Tori and Love weren’t there, so the shallow chitchat was more difficult than usual.
When my break finally came around, I slipped into the tiny breakroom and shut the door behind me, then pulled my phone from my pocket. I texted Love to ask for the OB/GYN’s number, and she sent it over immediately with a heart, and an apology.
I ignored both the apology and heart.
I would talk to her soon enough, and grudgingly forgive her, because we were basically family. There was probably a reason she’d kept the truth from me, as much as it pissed me off that she had.
Letting out an unsteady breath, I hit the button to call the doctor.
It rang a few times before she answered. “Hi, this is Susan DeMar.”
